The Betrothed (The Betrothed #1)(64)

“So I’ve seen.” As I spent more time in the Eastoffes’ home, I saw how they did everything they could to preserve their way of life. There were dozens of little details in how they executed day-to-day tasks, and each one was accompanied by an explanation of its importance, delivered with great care. “If this is the custom, then I will take it. As long as you’re positive Scarlet won’t be upset.”

Lady Eastoffe embraced me. “Putting this on your hand establishes you as part of our line; she will be overjoyed.”

“You make it sound so—”

We were pulled away from our moment by a high-pitched wave of screams.

“What’s that?” I asked.

We had wandered farther out into the tall bushes of the garden than I’d realized, and we couldn’t see the house. As the screaming continued, we raced through the bushes, trying to understand. We crept up to the edge of a high wall of shrubbery, peeking around the side. There were at least a dozen horses by the entryway.

“They came for us,” Lady Eastoffe breathed in horror. “They finally came.”





Thirty-Two




THEY. THANKS TO VALENTINA, I knew exactly who they were.

“The Darkest Knights,” I breathed so quietly I didn’t think Lady Eastoffe heard me.

There were more screams, and I impulsively started running again. Silas was in there. Before I could get too far I was thrown to the ground. I heard my veil rip as I fell.

“What are you doing?” I asked, beginning to cry. “We have to help them!”

“Shhh!” she insisted, covering my mouth until I settled long enough to hear her. “What do you think you could do? We have no horses, no swords, no nothing. My husband and yours would command us to stay in place if they could, and so we shall.”

“That’s our family in there!” I insisted. “That’s our family!”

She dragged me back behind the cover of some topiaries, and I kicked the whole way. I would not be kept from Silas.

“Look at me, Hollis!” I stopped fighting long enough to meet her eyes, and what I saw shook me to my core. How quickly she had gone from proud to broken, from lovely to disheveled. “If you think this isn’t breaking me, you’re wrong. But Dashiell and I, we made a deal. We made plans. And if one of us could ever make it out alive, that was what we had to do. . . .”

She pulled back skinny branches to see what she could. It was a shocking contrast, the beautiful sky, the scent of the flowers . . . and the violent shouts filling the air.

“Why won’t you run? Why would you even make such a plan?”

When she didn’t answer, I moved to stand, but she was on top of me again in an instant.

“I made promises to Silas, too. Now stay down!”

At the sound of his name, I stilled. Why in the world would Silas have a plan for me? Why didn’t I know about it? Why was I cowering in the grass when he might be dying?

I covered my ears. I could hear the grunts of fighting still, and I wished I could yell out, to tell everyone to stop. But it seemed I’d already risked too much, and I couldn’t bring danger to someone who had made vows to protect me.

“I don’t understand,” I insisted, over and over, whimpering out the words. “Why aren’t we helping?”

She said nothing, only carefully looking beyond the bushes when she thought it was safe and then quickly darting back. Her hands were safely locked on to me, ready to hold me down again if I threatened to run.

I remembered what Silas had said. He’d told me the Darkest Knights’ destruction was absolute. I wanted to vomit at the thought of Silas enduring absolute destruction.

The horror felt like it went on for an eternity. I tried to will Silas into living, into surviving whatever had just happened. Then I felt instantly guilty that my thoughts were of him and not anyone else. Saul still had so much living to do, and Sullivan was such a gentle soul that being in the room alone was probably enough to ruin him. And maybe my parents weren’t perfectly content, but that didn’t mean they didn’t deserve more time to try.

After both too much and too little time, the cries and shouts died down and gave way to sick laughter. That’s how I knew they were leaving. These men had finished their task and were now joking about their success. It was disgustingly satisfied, the sound of a job well done, the sound of many congratulations.

Then I heard another sound: crackling. We watched them ride off, making sure we could no longer hear the horses before daring to even stand.

“Please,” I whispered. “Please.” Then I risked opening my eyes.

The sound had made it clear, but I still couldn’t believe they’d set fire to the house. We hurried from the garden, rushing though I worried our opportunity to help had passed. I pushed down my fear with each step, desperate to get closer, to see if anyone had lived. Only one corner of the house was in flames. There was a chance we could save anyone who was still breathing.

I stopped in front of the main door, afraid to step inside, terrified of what I was going to see.

“Mother?” A whimper came from the shadowy corner by the front door.

“Scarlet? Is that you? Oh, thank goodness!” She ran over, clutching her child as she wept violently. “My girl! I still have my girl!”

I looked at the house. Nothing stirred. Was she the only one left?